Back and forth

This is a grab-style traversing trash rake, another image that I created for Siemens.

The motorized carriage slides back and forth across the rails, lowering the claw to pick up trapped debris at several locations.  A mounted control panel is seen in the rear.  Once again, this was created in 3D Studio Max..!  

Degrees of separation

This isn't the picture with a yellow rubber duck in it, but maybe you'll still find it interesting.  :)  It's another old graphic that I made in 3D Studio Max, for Siemens.  The equipment is an API separator, which separates oil from water.

The problem with art for some wastewater treatment equipment, is that the machinery can have an elongated profile to it.  So the view is rather zoomed out on an awkwardly proportioned image.  Sometimes I can shorten up the width by eliminating repetitious detail, but sometimes I really can't do that.  I probably could have shortened up this image a little more, however.


This is one of my images which I've seen being used on other websites, perhaps illegally.  Theft of digital art is quite common.      


I'm not sure where the graphic with the yellow rubber duck is at.  It may be on my old, old computer, which is all but dead.  Strain as I might, I can no longer hear the plaintive quack quack of my rubber duck!

Floaters and sinkers

This is an older piece of artwork that I did for Siemens! 

It's a cross section of a piece of wastewater treatment equipment, called a Rim-Flo clarifier.  Basically, water is let into the tank, where solids settle to the bottom and are collected, while floating scum is skimmed off the surface.  Moving water is kept on the perimeter of the tank, between the tank wall and influent baffle, apparently allowing for a nice settling action of poopie in the calm center area of the tank!  This image was created in 3D Studio Max.  


In another graphic for Siemens, I remember placing a yellow rubber duck in the tank.  I think it was art depicting a grit collector tank.  If I can find that image, I'll post that as well!  :)

Storm King Art Center

A few years ago I visited the Storm King Art Center in Mountainville, New York!  The center is a large outdoor sculpture garden, including works by Alexander Calder, Henry Moore and others, and includes some rather large works of art.  My main impression of the artwork was that it focused solely on very minimalist and abstract type sculpture, which was pleasing and restful to look at.  However, I felt that the place could use some more detailed and intricate works, to further engage the viewers. Perhaps something with more of a human element to it, something more to relate to, would have been good.  My other recollection of that day, is that it was one of the hottest, most humid days I had ever seen.  I remember my traveling partner making me run uphill to stay with her, as she was searching for a restroom, and I was thinking that running in that heat was probably one of the silliest things I had done in some time. Wow, was it miserable outside!  Fortunately, a rain shower came after a while, and I also got to rest my pale skin in an air conditioned restaurant. After I got back home, I didn't go outside again for several weeks. 


Anyway, here are a few photos that I took of the Storm King Art Center.  :)

Pow! Sock! Crack! Ouch!

I don't have time to play many console games these days, but I'd like to make an exception when "Batman:  Arkham City" comes out in October.  Of course this is the sequel to "Batman: Arkham Asylum", probably one of the best games ever made.  I like games with hand-to-hand combat (guns bore me, I don't want one), and it's clear to me that the Arkham Asylum game (along with another game, of supernatural bent, "Bayonetta"), had some of the most dynamic and innovative combat to be found in a while.  It was GREAT fun lurking in the shadows as Batman, studying the movements of various opponents and, one by one, leaping out of the darkness to pummel someone with fluid kick and punch combos.  The growing apprehension of Joker's thugs as they gradually fell victim to an unseen assailant, made for a realistic and very satisfying atmosphere. 


I don't recall where I saw it, but one of the worst game reviews I ever read, pretty much said that Batman was a wimp for resorting to stealth tactics when dealing with armed thugs in "Arkham Asylum".  Well, what's an unarmed man supposed to do?  Batman doesn't have bullet-proof skin.  The fact that he can defeat a room full of armed villains using cunning and martial arts moves, is about as good as it gets. What's also cool is that Batman never bothers to pick up and use any of his opponent's guns.  He's bad-ass enough as it is, and he's not there to kill anyone.       


I have to wonder how the Joker and Harley Quinn could ever be on the loose again, after what they did at Arkham Asylum, murdering so many prison guards.   But I'll look forward anyway to wiping the floor with them again!


Speaking of Batman, here's a cover of an old comic book that I've had for years.  An interesting and unusual encounter with the Hulk!

That's just brutal

One of my favorite series of Peanuts comics strips (which appears in the 1973-1974 edition of "The Complete Peanuts") revolves around the well-intentioned Linus arranging a testimonial dinner for Charlie Brown.  He does this on the notion that Charlie Brown has shown great dedication to his baseball team, and thus deserves a dinner to honor him and thank him.  This might be one of the cruelest stories that I've seen in Peanuts, at least so far as senseless conclusions go.  It didn't have to end the way that it did, but hey, Charlie Brown can't win! 


In spite of some zippy and derogatory comments by Lucy, the dinner plans go well at first.  With Peppermint Patty acting as the chairwoman of the invitation committee, everyone is soon on board with the dinner. They even arrange for Charlie Brown's favorite baseball player, Joe Shlabotnik ("last-round draft choice of the Green Grass League"), to attend the event.  With great pleasure, Peppermint Patty calls up Charlie Brown to tell him about the dinner plans.

So Charlie Brown is about as happy as we get to see him! Unfortunately, on the night of the party, Marcie of all people, stirs up trouble.  

What ensues is a train wreck of an evening for Charlie Brown.  Not only does he get no dinner, but it's confirmed that no one, not even Linus, has any faith in him.  Everyone goes their separate ways, not even bothering to consider the fact that even though Charlie Brown is a horrible baseball player, at least he cares and always tries his best.  They could have given him a dinner.  I felt that this series of strips was one of the most negative commentaries on Charlie Brown that I'd read (or rather, the most negative portrayal of the people that Charlie Brown has to live with)! The fact that the betrayal comes from the three characters who may respect Charlie Brown the most (though secretly for the most part) gives the story even more bite.  Indeed, normally vicious Lucy is floored to see the evening go up in smoke for Charlie Brown.  


I never get tired of reading Peanuts strips.  If you haven't read the above story, go look for it!  :)

The most profound obscurity

In the book "Joan Miró" by Carolyn Lanchner (published by the Museum of Modern Art, New York), I was reading today about the experience of surrealist artist Miró during World War II.  Miró was in Normandy for a bit when the war was in its infancy, but with the sudden attack of the Germans on France, Miró was compelled to leave France and return to his native country of Spain (unlike many other artists who fled to the U.S.).  Miró, who was described by Surrealist leader Andre Breton as "one of the most outstanding examples of character", led an uneasy existence in Europe during the war. Meanwhile, reports from the artists now in America were quite rosy, regarding the acceptance of their work by the population there.  But Miró was not overly consoled, and lamented of his conditions,"One must be ready to work amidst total indifference and in the most profound obscurity."  The Germans of course did not think highly of the "degenerate" artwork produced by Miró and his peers, so the future looked bleak indeed in Europe.  


I look at the artwork of my favorite artists with such a fondness, that it's easy to forget that they often had to deal with situations so much worse than anything we are dealing with, what with an ailing economy and seemingly endless bickering in government.  Miró did not accomplish much painting between 1941 and 1944 due to the difficult conditions in Europe (paint supplies were not easy to obtain, and a low profile was best).  But his spirit was not broken, he merely bided his time until the creative door was open again (Miró returned heavily to lithographs, painting and ceramics at some point in 1944).  


I thought I had it bad, I had to make chili today without beans.  I have two cans of beans that have been expired for seven months.  Anyone want them?  

I bet I could paint that (mmmmph...)!

When I was in Spain a few years ago, I had the good fortune to visit the Museo del Prado in Madrid, the internationally famous art museum.   One of the best things about visiting a museum for the first time is when I encounter works of art that I appreciate, but which I didn't realize I'd be seeing.  :)  I had one of those "woo hoo" type moments when I saw the large and wonderful "The Garden of Earthly Delights" by Hieronymous Bosch in all its glory. In great error I didn't have my camera at hand when I visited the Prado, but here is the painting courtesy of Wikipedia / Wikimedia Commons:  

This triptych was painted around the year 1500.  I would wager that no other painting in the world gets more scrutinized than this one, given the amount of detail and deep symbolism which must be absorbed while standing in front of it.  I wonder who has looked at the right hand panel of this painting and hasn't thought, "Jeepers, is this where I'm going to land one day if I don't straighten myself up"?  Bosch was just a man of course, but it's easy to feel that this painting was divinely inspired by God (or rather is a warning from God).  It must certainly be an image that helps give shape to many a person's impression of hell and life outside of our earthly existence.


Wikipedia notes that the central panel is rather ambiguous, in that we don't know if it's a paradise that might have been, or is it a representation of surrender to temptation?  The original intention of the painting's creation is also not known for certain... It may have been commissioned by a lay patron.  Something tells me that the lay patron got his money's worth.   

David Hartman

I figured I would have written a post on him sooner... Artist David Hartman (at www.sideshowmonkey.com)  is one of my favorite contemporary artists, producing the type of slick horror art that would have appealed to me as a youngster (had I known him then).  His work is similar enough to the style of the"Castle Dracula" Colorforms art which I so enjoyed as a boy (see post dated 3-25-2011)!  Hartman has created art for film director / musician Rob Zombie, but I wasn't really familiar with him until I saw that he is a friend of Bryan Baugh, another fine horror geek whose instructional drawing books I have purchased.  Hartman and Baugh seem to make a point every year, to create their own Halloween costumes.  I would salute them for staying true to the meaning of Halloween (in my opinion) in that they dress like HORRIBLE SCARY MONSTERS, and not like salt and pepper shakers, or fuzzy dice, or some other silly thing as people are wont to do.  :)   


Saturated colors, damsels in peril, and shredded body parts are common features of Hartman's illustrations.  (To the degree that they are not common, they should be).  I love it!  Plus, as I noted yesterday about Richard Sala, Hartman doesn't have to draw hyper-realistically in order to be successful.  His artwork represents the very heart of horror.  I may have to wipe bloody goo off my glasses after looking through his gallery, but I figure that I have running water for a reason.  


I hope you enjoy Hartman's website and gallery, as unfortunately I don't know of any good salt and pepper shaker websites.

Richard Sala

The LuxRender kitchen gave me grief today.  It seems that I'll have to do a lengthy render just to see if the textures are properly corrected, and that wasn't going to happen today!  Mapping in Blender is sometimes easy, but I never find it easy in LuxRender!


Check out this guy's website.... horror artist and author Richard Sala.  As horror artist Bryan Baugh has alluded to, Sala's work is refreshing in that it focuses not on detailed, highly polished images (as is so common today), but instead takes a more light hearted approach,  with focus on mood, character and story.  I love Sala's simplicity in his art.  I hope that one day I can look back at my art career and know that my work told a story that I wanted to tell, rather than just being an effort to impress someone with technical mastery of linework, color, anatomy, etc.


A further enjoyable list of artworks by Richard Sala can be viewed here. One of my favorite images here is "The Dollmaker's Daughter", which is a fun work done in ink and watercolor.

Boo boo's abound

Here's an early look at the LuxRender version of the kitchen scene, rendered for just a short amount of time (about an hour or so)!  

If you click the image to enlarge it, you can see specks and dust in the image, which is a result of not letting the scene render for a proper length of time.  But you can also see some of the nice effects that LuxRender provides, in the reflection on the floor, and in the shiny chrome of the trash can lid and the water faucet.  The challenge now is to get the lighting more evenly distributed, so that the hutch is shown in sharper relief, without the overexposure of the sun in the window and on the walls.  Also I might have to get specific with LuxRender on how I want the texture maps to lay on the objects (this is called "UVW mapping"), as it has stretched my wood grain textures, and scaled the tiled floor up considerably (compared to the image in yesterday's post)!  Actually I kind of like the large colored triangles on the floor, maybe I'll leave it that way.  Also, the plates inside the hutch are meant to have patterns on them, not just flat color, so that's another mapping boo boo. 


Be sure to tune in tomorrow, for another boo boo ridden attempt at creating this kitchen!  :-) 

A blinding light

Another update on the kitchen scene!

I still need to add materials to a number of objects.  I also need to set up a "mesh light", which will act as the sun when I render the scene in LuxRender.  The image here was rendered inside Blender, using an area lamp and ambient occlusion as the light sources.  An area lamp is a focused beam of light, seen coming in through the window, while ambient occlusion is a general level of light in the scene, having no direct source, but which exists everywhere and illuminates objects not struck by the area lamp.  A combination of area lamps and ambient occlusion is one of the best ways to produce a realistic looking scene in Blender.  However, Blender lacks global radiosity, which is the effect of light bouncing off objects in a scene, scattering light and color onto nearby objects.  That's why LuxRender is used for the final render, as it has global radiosity capability, and makes for a decidedly better looking scene than what Blender can produce alone.  


But there's a cost for such realism:  Luxrender can take several days to render a scene, while Blender rendered the above scene in less than a minute.


I also have to put what's called a "portal" outside of the window, which won't actually show up in the scene, but which will help LuxRender to more efficiently direct and calculate the effect of sunlight shining in through the window.  The portal is simply a flat plane which tells the LuxRender engine, "Hey, shine a light through this hole in the wall!"


You might want to know, where's the refrigerator?  Ummm... it's off camera.  Yup, off camera and yet assuredly keeping our beverages and produce nicely chilled.  And now I will end this post before you can ask about the microwave oven and dishwasher.

Something's cooking

This is the progress on a 3d kitchen scene that I'm creating.  It's based on a tutorial by Karan Shah at cg.tutsplus.com, but includes my own embellishments.  I'm making it in Blender of course, and will render it in Luxrender when I'm done constructing the scene.  The pitcher from yesterday's blog post makes a return appearance here.  :)  Hope you like the scene so far!  
(Please click for a larger view).

3D skinning

Here's a general mini explanation on some 3d modeling.  :)  Yesterday I talked about using skinned surface curves in the Blender application, in order to build a 3d model of a rat.  Here's a simpler example, showing a basic pitcher shape (without the handle).  You can click for a bigger view:

The first image shows the various cross sections that I created (in this case, each section is known as a "V isocurve"). Basically I started with the most complicated cross section in the model, in this case judged to be near the top, where the spout is.  (The reason you start with the most complicated one, is that skinning requires all cross sections to have the same number of vertices.  A complex section will naturally have the most vertices, so it's your guide as to how many vertices will appear in ALL cross sections). 


Then I continue to build cross sections which I feel describe the general shape of the pitcher.  Once the cross sections seem adequate, I then "skin" the object, which image #2 shows.  This effectively creates the "U isocurves" which in this case are curves running up and down the pitcher. This creates a skin for the pitcher. At this point, flaws in the overall shape are usually spotted, and I have to go in and move vertices around, and typically add more rows of vertices to get a smooth shape.  Once I'm happy, I render the wire model to produce the third lovely image.  The model is now ready to have color and texture added to it (I simply rendered a basic white color).  


The rat was modeled in the same way, but was much more work of course.  The cross sections shrunk and double backed on themselves, in order to produce the mouth of the rat.  Then the eyelids and ears had to be dragged kicking and screaming from the primordial void where most created things come from.  :)  


The pitcher is part of another 3d scene which I've been working on just for practice.  I'll post the end result of that project very soon.  :)

The Plague, all over again

Today I created a rat character!  :)

Included here, are a hairy and an original hairless version.  I built this in Blender, Painter and Photoshop.  As a reference, I used a modeling tutorial created by Viacheslav Slavinsky and Timothy Kanters, at the Blender.org website.  I then embellished the model by adding color, texture and hair.  The model itself was created by skinning surface curves, which then required lots of rearranging of vertices.  It was a fun little project, as I felt the need to do some different kind of modeling from what I'd normally do!   


The rat and I will wait right here, if you'd like to run to the fridge for some cheese.  :) 

Who left the door open?

Pierre Roy's painting "A Naturalist's Study", from the year 1928, is a Surrealist work that I've appreciated for a while:

Pierre Roy was introduced to the Surrealist group by Giorgio de Chirico (whom of course had also been known to paint a few trains).  In the book, "Surrealist Painting" by Simon Wilson (Phaidon Press Limited), the son of Pierre Roy relates his father's emotional state at the time that he painted this work, saying that he "was prey to a deep nervous and above all emotional depression" and that the artist had just recovered from the passing of his wife.  I wonder if the document pinned to the wall is some account of the artist's financial difficulties at the time, or perhaps it's a confession from his subconscious (Pierre's son had indicated that his father felt somehow to blame for his wife's death). Such mental disturbances were thus the reason for the dysfunction seen in the painting, Pierre's son further elaborated, in that the snake is pinned to the floor, the hub of the wheel has no hole in it, the wind outside blows in different directions, and "the string of eggs gives no suggestion of life" (I suppose that eggs strung together have likely been emptied of their contents).  


Pierre Roy employs the common conceit of Surrealism in this painting, that of making a sinister statement beneath an odd jumble of objects. The playful contrasting colors and bright sunlight are simply the disguise of death.  In this regard, the foretelling of doom, Roy's painting has much in common with the unsettling urban landscapes of de Chirico.  The door may be open in "A Naturalist's Study", but there's nothing inviting here!

Alice Dalton Brown

Sometimes I've heard people question the point of painting in a realistic or photographic manner (I've asked the point of this myself as well), when a camera can be used to capture a subject more easily.  Shouldn't a painting be more than a photograph, something more expressive?  But the simple answer to that, is that not all realistic paintings are of things that actually exist!  According to Art.com, the oil paintings of Alice Dalton Brown are creations of her imagination, but they look real enough to lounge in.  You can see Ms. Brown's work here...  Be sure to look around her website, as the paintings are quite amazing, serene and romantic!

From the wastebasket

I was rummaging through some old stuff today, and I found this weird drawing (or rather, a photocopy of the drawing) that I did well over a decade ago.  It depicts a violin morphing into a spider and a grasshopper:

Here's an even older drawing that I made, from a certain movie that I might have seen once:

And here's something that I just can't even explain:

It might be upside down.  You decide!

Oh, the horror!

I bought a new book this week-end, a cool collection of old comic book covers and excerpts, from the kid friendly age of horror!  The book is called "The Horror!  The Horror!" and was compiled by Jim Trombetta, with an introduction from one of my heroes, author R.L. Stine.  The main beef of the book is that these are the comics which infuriated the U.S. government, due to their apparent poor influence on children.  Here is a view of the book's cover:

Scary, huh?  The book focuses less on well-known comics, such as those from EC Comics, and more on forgotten titles, with a significant amount of the drawings completed by artists unknown.  Of particular interest to me is a comic story called "The Secret of the Walking Dead", by Fawcett Publications Inc.  The grimy linework, flat contrasting colors, and horrific content of the comic (corpse climbing into a coffin!) were exactly the sort of thing that would have creeped me out as a kid!  I love it.


Included with the book, is a DVD containing a documentary that aired in 1955, narrated by Paul Coates.  The documentary is an attack on the comics industry and the content of their products, and is notably late (taking place after the Senate hearings and the creation of the Comics Code Authority) and was thus decidedly irrelevant.  (See my previous post dated 3-22-2011).  However,  Trombetta still counterattacks Coates, with a type of moral authority which is also decidedly irrelevant.  I note with interest that the defenders of the comic industry blame the whistle blowers for not definitively proving that comics have a detrimental effects on young minds, when intellectual honesty tells us that such a point can't be proven in a scientific sense anyway.  What is required then instead, is common sense, which tells us that there is a limit to what we want our kids to be reading in comic books.  This is one of main points I think, brought forth by Coates' predecessors, Dr. Fredric Wertham and Senator Estes Kefauver.  As I said before, I don't approve of the government censoring comic books, but I also won't jump up and down either, insisting that children can't possibly be influenced by what they read.  Personally, I wouldn't care if my (hypothetical) son was reading about zombies returned from the grave, but I would be very angry if he was reading about the "pleasures" of smoking crack.  So I can see what Wertham was concerned about, given that he was dealing with comics which had stooped to a low not previously seen before (children murdering their parents)!  Of course people will be concerned then, when standards seem to be plummeting.  Any conscientious parent will draw a line somewhere, and the genius of Wertham's attacks, was that they woke parents up to what their children were reading, instigating changes in the comics industry without federal government mandates.  The will of the people was done, censorship of comics through the Comics Code Authority.  I don't agree with what was done, but it happened, and I won't pretend that I don't understand it at least a little bit.


Trombetta also suggests that a particular attack on the comics industry is an intentional distraction away from real life crimes, such as parents beating their children.  Trombetta wrote..."(committee junior counsel Herbert) Beaser was there to kill the (comic book's) message (of real life child abuse).  His intention was not to police abuse, but to police the representation of abuse."  I'm not sure if Trombetta even believes his own words regarding that?  Somehow I doubt that the government had a vested interest in protecting real world child abusers.   Sure, kids back in those days were given corporal punishment beatings that seem cruel by today's standards, but that was a society norm eagerly enforced by adults everywhere, not just a supposedly corrupt government.  I think it's more the truth that policing the comics industry was simply more realistically achievable, compared to imprisoning the entire adult population based on widespread child abuse.  And there must have been legal limits to corporal punishment already anyway (killing your kids was not permitted, so far as I know).


Politics aside, "The Horror!  The Horror!" is as fine a collection of gore and mayhem as can be found.  Still a little tame by my standards, but I'm jaded as all get out.  :)  

Hedda Sterne

It's been reported that the artist Hedda Sterne has died at the age of 100 (coincidentally the same age as Dorothea Tanning, still living).  Hedda was considered part of the Abstract Expressionists (although she said that she was uncommitted to any art group or label, and that she painted free of outside influence).  Although I'm certain that I've encountered her paintings at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, I have not been much familiar at all with Sterne.  Exploring her work online, I would say that she had a persistent type of inventiveness which we saw in the Expressionist Paul Klee.  As I mentioned before about Klee, he had this remarkable ability to reinvent his artwork, while still retaining enough of his own identity so that his work is recognizable as belonging to him.  To me, this helped make him a master artist.  As I gain more familiarity with Sterne, I wonder if this same characteristic could seen in her work (my initial impression is that her styles do vary more widely than Klee's).
An article on Hedda Sterne's passing can be viewed here. 

Umm... thanks!

I'd like to thank everyone who has been reading my blog.  I appreciate your taking the time out of your schedule!  :)  If there's anything that you would like for me to emphasize, add, or delete to what I write about, please feel free to make a comment!  Thanks.  (Note:  Any reference to the time that my shorts fell down in the front yard while moving my mom's sofa will be deleted... and re-posted to my main website with a cacophony of attention getting devices).   


Here's a quick 3d image that I made some months ago, rendered simply with Blender's internal engine.  Nothing major!  The image includes some anatomy drawings that I made, and also one of my paintings.  I may not post again until Monday or Tuesday, but as usual I'll do it again as soon as possible!  :)

There's room at this table

This is something of a unique painting, by the highly influential, Belgian Surrealist artist Rene Magritte (painted in 1928).  It's called "Man with a Newspaper", and speaks of the passage of time and our mortality in this world:

In a previous post from 3-4-2011, I hinted at the futility of a whole universe which was largely inaccessible to the humans dwelling within it. This painting recalls that impression for me, but also suggests the opposite, that physical people are not necessarily important in the big scheme.  Even objects manufactured by our own hand will persist in their existence, after we have vanished.  Perhaps the picture on the wall was painted by the very man reading his newspaper, left to decay and become indecipherable at an indeterminate rate, and yet assuredly outliving its creator.  Magritte's painting could also been seen as a violation to what martial artist Bruce Lee spoke about, in that man is inseparable from his world, and that one does not exist without the other.  That raises the question of whether the view being seen is that of an impassive object, or the sight of a conscious being.  One person can only cease to exist, if someone else is there to appreciate the fact.  And yet, a person is capable of life, even if solitude were the only likely existence.


Magritte's painting hangs at the Tate Gallery, in London. 

Benedict Oddi

Here's a contemporary artist that I just discovered... Benedict Oddi, of Pittsburgh, PA.  His website can be reached here!  In particular I enjoy the paintings listed under his "Eternal Escape Unknown" heading. These paintings are of a surrealist nature, and we can see the possible influence of several different artists here.  Primarily Oddi's works are reminiscent of Yves Tanguy, except that they contain more lurid color.  His painting "F Your Sailboat" also reminds me of a Roberto Matta work, with its possible depiction of the landscape of the mind.  The bird figure in "Flight of Icarus" is suggestive of the same expressionless animal seen in several of Salvador Dali's paintings, such as "Little Ashes", in combination with Dali's frequent self portrait in which he paints himself face downwards and with a distinctive nose, as in The Great Masturbator.  Also the bird seems to be evocative of the figures found in Joan Miro's famous painting "Dog Barking at the Moon", with the primarily white body marked by splashes of color.  Anyway, lots of influences here!  Or so it seems to me.  If I get out to the Pittsburgh area one day, I wouldn't mind looking up this artist and maybe catching an available show.  

Kay Sage

In my recent salivating attention to the artist Dorothea Tanning, I may have neglected to give proper attention to another one of my favorite surrealist painters, Kay Sage.  Sage's paintings are reminiscent of those of Girogio de Chirico, with their hauntingly simple and seemingly unfinished manmade architecture, and far off horizons deep with despair. I would credit Kay Sage as one of the original inspirations for my attraction to surrealist art.  Her painting "In the Third Sleep" is the influence for a painting idea which I've had in my head for many years, but have never created (I think because it is just TOO similar to Sage's painting and needs work!).  There's something romantic about sitting in a musty old library, looking through worn books covering the lives of such special artists as Kay Sage.  It makes me wonder why I couldn't have lived in her world and time. 


Kay Sage was married to the surrealist painter Yves Tanguy, and was a good friend of Dorothea Tanning (I'll surely write more about Tanguy in a future post).  Like Tanning, Sage used subdued colors in her paintings, which I think gave her work a wonderful "aged" look.  Her colors have a creamy and smooth gradation, reminding me of something which might be edible.  Kay struggled for any recognition of her talent, and even her husband Yves was apparently prone to belittling her (if you've ever seen Yves' haircut, you might question how he could poke fun at someone else).  Sage struggled with depression and failing eyesight after her husband died of a stroke in 1955.  


Kay Sage died in 1963, from a self-inflicted gunshot to the heart.  It's disturbing to know that someone so talented and immersed in a world loved by many, could be persuaded to end her life.  It's tempting when looking at the tragic lives of artists such as Kay Sage, Arshile Gorky and Frida Kahlo, to wonder what might have been, if events hadn't cut them down so wrongly.  But then, isn't it silly to expect more than we have been given by these artists already?  Did not these artists achieve greatness regardless of obstacles?  In the same way that it took the immensity and chaos of the universe in order to create the unique Earth, so too were the trials and heartbreak in the lives of our favorite artists, the necessary catalysts of the works that we appreciate.  There could be no more great paintings.  The artists did what they could, and all that was really necessary, and then they were gone.


Some more of Sage's paintings can be seen here.

6*8.2 / 4.61 = time for more snacks

As a natural follow up to yesterday's romp down Sesame Street, I thought that today I would expound a bit on how philosophy and theoretical physics relate to art.  I don't actually know anything about these subjects, and as such, I feel especially qualified to write the garbage which follows.


Well, I was back in York this week-end, at another art exhibit at T.R. Kaltreider's Studio / Gallery, and I accidentally found myself caught in the middle of an intelligent conversation between two other persons (one being Tyler Kaltreider and the other an unidentified woman).  The woman mentioned that she had recently discovered the joy of fractals in art, and she and Tyler briefly exchanged some pleasantries regarding the "Mandelbrot set" ( a well known example of a fractal, which is an object which repeats its pattern at successively smaller scales).  During this conversation, I managed to nod in an astute sort of way, and made a reassuring "mmm hmmm" noise, which merely meant that I was ready for more honey roasted peanuts.  


But now today, I was reading again in Paul Davies' book, "The Mind of God", and woo hoo, the subject of the Mandelbrot set just happens to come up!  This book sheds some light on how fractals are of more than just a passing interest in art (though that is not the main theme of the book in any way).  Davies explains that the Mandelbrot set is an example of proof that mathematics is not merely a human construct with coincidental similarities to the properties of nature, but is a real, vast landscape which exists both inside and outside of human knowledge, waiting for our gradual exploration and discovery of it (apparently, these contrasting viewpoints of the true nature of mathematics are a source of debate).  The Mandelbrot set has a depth of complexity which is outside of man's imagination to create.  As mathematics are thus a type of ethereal yet genuine world ripe for exploration, the mathematician Roger Penrose sees a connection between mathematical study and the work of inspired artists, in that both seem to be stumbling upon great truths that can live without man's creative input (but can be summoned into consciousness by man's imagination).  So while previously I might have considered fractals to be a yawn inducing aspect of art, being too cold and mathematically precise to induce any emotion in the viewer, perhaps the real attraction is a broader appreciation for discovery and the human craving for order and hard facts in a sometimes grayish universe.  Maybe I wouldn't even mind hanging a picture of a Mandelbrot set on my bedroom wall, right above the bowl of honey roasted peanuts and assorted snacks.  As the artist / blogger Sam Nielson might take an interest in (see post dated 3-15-11), perhaps the fractal art strikes enough of a balance between order and chaos in order to be maximally appealing in an artistic sense.  Although the complexity of a fractal is dense and hard to fully digest, it's overall general patterns of repeating shapes is pleasing and easy to look at.  Hmmmm.  Well, I'd still rather see art depicting oddly colored aliens or something freshly risen from the grave.  :)      

The lower case "n"

This week-end I saw a DVD for sale, containing episodes of the old "The Electric Company" children's program that I enjoyed watching as a boy. I had totally forgotten about "The Adventures of Letterman" segments which that show featured, and was happy to be reminded of them!  So today I went onto YouTube and found a number of Electric Company and Sesame Street videos, featuring cartoons which I haven't even thought about in 30 years probably!  Here's a great old segment from Sesame Street:



I wonder how my scant intelligence would have been further impaired, if I hadn't watched cartoons such as this.  I suppose that we take the lessons learned in childhood for granted.  Some of the music heard in these videos are reminiscent of songs appreciated by adults in the 1970's, lyrical melodies which are immediately enjoyable the first time that you hear them.


There are a ton more of these segments on YouTube, and it's so incredible to see them again.  Here are a few more of my favorites, and I highly recommend looking through YouTube for more!
"Rolling Ball 1-2-3"
"E... See Me"
"King of 8"

Flying away...

I'll be away for a little bit, and may not post again until Monday! Meanwhile, here is an electrifying drawing that I did back in art school. It's a small pencil drawing on board.  When I wasn't doing class work at college, or toiling as a clerk at the school's accounting office, I enjoyed reading about the U.S. Civil War.  In fact the one history class that I had at college was one of my favorite courses.  I was something of the class superstar, because the instructor really liked me, and all of the other art students were asleep.  The only time the other students weren't napping was when I was giving a report on Pearl Harbor, and my partner on the project was displaying a nice replica of the U.S.S. Arizona that he had assembled the night before.
I'll post again ASAP!

Too much to consider

Well, I've just been working on the current animation project.  Today's weighty dilemmas and work have revolved around:


1)  Considering rendering in passes, so that static objects may be rendered in one frame only, thus permitting the LuxRender engine to be utilized for those objects (resulting in better realism than if they were rendered internally in Blender).  The various passes would then be composited in Blender. 


2)  Considering the use of 2D painted objects to be used as textures with transparent backgrounds, for objects in Blender which will have a small amount of motion.  This would cut down on geometry in Blender and perhaps allow for a more realistic look for those objects, which, due to their motion, cannot be efficiently rendered in LuxRender (unless I had five extra lifetimes in which to make this movie).  Using these 2D painted textures could sort of create a whimsical "cut-out" look to the objects in the movie.       


Sorry for the dry technical stuff, but it's what is consuming me lately.  :-) Maybe a photo would help.... This is a shot of LuxRender in the process of rendering a test scene (you can click the image for a larger view).   The neat chrome effects seen in the lower righthand corner of the image are one of the strengths of using LuxRender instead of Blender, for rendering.  This image has been rendering for only a few minutes.  A complete, polished render of just one frame in LuxRender can take 24 or more hours of computer processing time.  It's pretty intense.

Yes, the little chrome bolt is looking at you.  :)